


A Werewolf's Guide to the Galaxy

by TheStayPuftMarshmallowMan



Series: Hybrids and Purebloods [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura was never a paladin, BAMF Lance (Voltron), Because what else are you gonna do when your best friend turns out to be a werewolf, Don't expect a langsty fic here because it's pretty happy, Fanboy Hunk, Fanboy Keith, Gen, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Keith never joined the Blade, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance is a werewolf, Mild Language, Not very much!, That's probably his snapchat name, Werewolf Lance, Werewolves, You know Lance calls himself the Big Bad Wolf in casual conversation, fangirl pidge, let's be real, little bit of swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-06 05:15:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14049702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStayPuftMarshmallowMan/pseuds/TheStayPuftMarshmallowMan
Summary: “Apologies, Paladin, we were under the impression that you were of the same species as the humans,” a diplomat said courteously, withdrawing his hand. “What is your preferred manner of greeting?”Hunk and he exchanged worried glances as the rest of the team looked over in confusion.“You must be mistaken,” Lance said, a grin working its way across his face. “I’m as human as the rest of them.”“But you are clearly of another race,” the diplomat pressed. “Your scent… it’s so… different to theirs.”“I use a different shampoo,” Lance suggested, which clearly didn’t satisfy the gathered generals and lords around them.---Later on, back at the castle, Keith turned to Lance, a wary expression on his face.“So what was that about earlier?” he asked.“What? The weird ‘you’re an alien’ thing? Yeah, I have no idea.”Pidge snorted.“I asked about that, actually,” she said. “They said you smelled like an anam’mala which is their equivalent of a dog.”Lance scowled.“I do not smell like dog."





	A Werewolf's Guide to the Galaxy

Lance’s mouth hurt. Like, really bad. Understandable, really, when you considered the fact that more and more teeth were forcing their way through his gums.

He swallowed loudly, barely able to close his lips over his enlarged canines, breathing heavily and rapidly through open mouth. His forearms braced his body against the sink, head bowed in pain.

“Get it together, McClain,” he growled to himself, words barely audible thanks to the lack of space in his mouth. “Deep breaths, come on.”

He managed to get his breathing under control and winced as something - well, multiple things - dragged up through his gums and retreated from his jaw. Chancing a look upwards into the mirror, he grinned when he saw a distinct lack of teeth, fur or weird glowing eyes.

At first glance, Lance was a normal, albeit unusually tall, guy. He had dark skin, dark hair which contrasted his ice blue eyes dramatically. He had the correct number of limbs, a slightly larger amount of body hair than perhaps usual and an average amount of testosterone in his body. But there was something about him...something animalistic. He wasn’t especially muscular, leaning more towards the wiry spectrum of muscle tone, but his shoulders were broad and his legs, though thin, were strong.

Oh, and there was that added factor of turning into Werewolf McMoon-lover whenever a giant natural satellite that happened to be in its full phase passed by them.

Not to say that Lance had been discovered, of course. He took pride in his control over his transformations, though it had been getting harder of late. He suspected that that had something to do with the fact that he hadn’t transformed in over seven months.

_ “Leandro, estúpido! Transformations cleanse the soul, nieto, release your control for one night!” _ He could practically hear his Abuela’s voice echoing in his ears. His father may have been pack alpha, but everyone knew who really ran the show and it wasn’t him. Marisol Hernandez was a force to be reckoned with even reaching into her mid eighties.

Unable to resist, he let his fangs slide out from his gums again. They were jagged and could rip through skin and bone like paper. Lance had long become accustomed to the smarting pain of forty two large canines pushing his human teeth back into his mouth before his jaw elongated to hold them, but the feeling of having seventy four protrusions of bone in his mouth was something always a bit uncomfortable. 

This time they slid back into his skull with little persuasion. He wiped the excess drool off of his chin with a hand towel (he couldn’t close his mouth okay? And breathing was difficult when you couldn’t get oxygen into your mouth to begin with).

“Well, at least you’re a badass, McClain,” he told himself. “Don’t ever let anyone tell you different.”

During Shiro’s disappearance, the remaining Paladins had created a rigorous training programme. This was actually Lance’s idea, who as a well-rounded and stable individual already knew how to deal with loss watched as the rest of the team lost their proverbial shit.

He enlisted Allura to help devise a schedule that would suit everyone’s timetables. Keith, who liked to burn off energy in order to sleep would train last, after dinner. Despite his tendency to enjoy food, Hunk tended to neglect basic needs so his training session was right before lunch to work up an appetite. Pidge found herself in bad tempers mid-morning when her insomnia seemed to have the most impact on her day to day life, so getting her to beat up some robots was probably a better option than poor Coran.

Lance was a morning person, so his was before breakfast and the rest of the day was a free for all.

Now, Lance had picked the morning session for one particular reason. Growing claws in the middle of group training wasn’t exactly an option and everyone was asleep at seven a.m. anyway, so he was pretty safe in training early. He could throw a few Altean gladiators around, have a nice little muscle stretch, test out his transformation control and let out his necessary howls because as luck would have it, the training deck was soundproofed.

Of course, it was because of this schedule that all his skeletons flew out of the closet.

One of the downsides to soundproofing was that he couldn’t hear anything happening outside. And something had damaged the emergency siren in the training deck, so when it went off at seven thirty that morning, Lance stayed completely and blissfully oblivious. By this point in his training, he was getting into it and had initiated what he called the ‘rough and tumble’ simulation, which was a programme centred around more animalistic fighting for such species such as him.

However, this just meant that when the door slid open, Hunk was greeted with the sight of a half-transformed man-wolf rolling around on the floor with an animatronic lump of metal.

“Lance?” he squeaked, eyes like saucer plates in his face. Lance, from his position on the ground, tipped his head back to look at Hunk upside down. His teeth were gritted in a snarl, some fangs pointing out from beneath his lips and he looked rabid.

With a growl, Lance pulled his legs up underneath the robot and kicked it hard in the stomach. Hard enough that it went flying six feet into the air and landed with a scream of metal against metal some yards away. Faster than humanly possible, Lance jumped across the training deck and landed perfectly on top of the dummy’s chest, one clawed hand buried in it’s armour, the other braced against the floor. Yet another screech of metal and Lance yanked his hand out, fist clenched around the bright energy core that acted as the heart of the robot.

“Hunk?” the word came out mangled in his sore throat and mouth. “What’s...what’s wrong?”

Hunk was gaping at him.

“That was  _ so _ cool! Oh my god! You’re a  _ werewolf? _ Why didn’t you tell me!” Hunk leapt forward and wrapped a large hand around Lance’s wrist, pulling his hand into Hunk’s face. The claws were steadily retracting into his fingertips, leaving only broken skin behind which healed before Hunk’s very eyes.

“Woah…” he breathed. “Healing powers…” He fixed Lance with a puppy dog stare that really wasn’t fair for someone who wasn’t even related to the stupid things. “What else can you do?”

Lance, accepting the situation for what it was, returned Hunk’s look with a deadpan stare.

“I can turn into a wolf,” he said, feigning seriousness. “Bizarre, I know, considering I’m a werewolf, but it is what it is.”

“Shut up!” Hunk laughed. “I mean what  _ powers _ dude! Come on, my best bro turns out to be a werewolf and I’m not allowed to be impressed? I mean, obviously you have super strength and reflexes, presumably enhanced senses…” he rambled and Lance looked at him with a fond expression.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Lance chuckled. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know, but first, was there a reason you interrupted my training and outed my secret?”

“Oh!  _ Oh. _ Oh shit. Oh yeah, we definitely need to go. Like, right now. But first?”

“What now?”

“Show me a claw?”

\---

Having someone know about his secret made things a lot easier for Lance. If he was having difficulty with control, he only needed to shoot Hunk a meaningful look and he was in the clear to disappear to his room for the rest of the day. Usually Shiro would arrive at some point around lunch to drag him off for team bonding or Keith would demand a sparring partner. Lance had forgotten how great having a cover was.

In the end, he didn’t regret how the rest of the team found out. In fact, it was only a matter of time, really. 

The battle they were fighting in was an odd one. Instead of being in the lions, as their fights so often were, this one was on foot. Plus, they were teaming up with an entire planetary army rather than a few rebel ships and the Blade of Marmora. 

And they had more than five minutes to put together a plan, which was a novelty that they only had experience with when dealing with big missions like Naxzela and the Central Command Station.

Just his luck that the planet they were helping, Jar’Amal, was home to a race of aliens with possibly the most developed sense of smell ever seen in the universe. It was so precise, it could detect an element from a mile away.

To cut it short, Lance had less chance than a snowflake making it through hell of going undetected on this planet. 

Sure enough, as soon as they met with diplomatic and military leaders from around the globe, their three nostrils started twitching in confusion when they met him. (Honestly, they probably started twitching from the comfort of their private jets high above the ground).

“Apologies, Paladin, we were under the impression that you were of the same species as the humans,” a diplomat said courteously, withdrawing his hand. “What is your preferred manner of greeting?”

Hunk and him exchanged worried glances as the rest of the team looked over in confusion.

“You must be mistaken,” Lance said, a grin working its way across his face. “I’m as human as the rest of them.”

The aliens frowned and sniffed a little harder.

“But you are clearly of another race,” the diplomat pressed. “Your scent… it’s so… different to theirs.”

“I use a different shampoo,” Lance suggested, which clearly didn’t satisfy the gathered generals and lords around them. He shrugged, not wanting to let this confrontation go on too long. “A handshake is fine though.”  
Finally, the diplomat agreed to bury the hatchet, though he did notice suspicious glances being thrown his way by the alien congregation.

Later on, back at the castle, Keith turned to Lance, a wary expression on his face.

“So what was that about earlier?” he asked.

“What? The weird ‘you’re an alien’ thing? Yeah, I have no idea.”

Pidge snorted.

“I asked about that, actually,” she said. “They said you smelled like an  _ anam’mala _ which is their equivalent of a dog.”

Lance scowled. 

“I do not smell like dog,” he groused, sharing a quick look with Hunk. To anyone else, they wouldn’t have been able to interpret it, but to them it was an exchange of barely concealed laughter. If only they knew.

Karma was a bitch. If only  _ Lance _ knew what was coming.

\---

The Galra arrived right on schedule for once. It was nice to know that their enemy didn’t always have to be several quintants earlier than expected. Lance and Blue were camouflaged behind a particularly large shrub with about a thousand troops ready to deploy at any second. Their primary objective was as the first line of offence. The others all had similar battalions waiting at other locations.

“Alright men!” Lance shouted, feeling a rush of adrenaline course through him. “We have one task and one task only! Don’t let anyone through! Keep your focus on the ground but your eyes on the skies too! Don’t shoot at the planes, but be aware of them and don’t let them catch you off guard. On slip up could mean death! Understand?”

“Sir, yes sir!” came a bellowed reply. Lance felt a sharp grin slide across his teeth, a stray fang cutting his bottom lip slightly. 

The sound of footsteps jogging in time towards them sounded through the forest, an ominous sound against the backdrop of chattering birds that gradually quieted as they scared and took flight.

As soon as the first armoured foot appeared around a colossal tree trunk, Lance swung his arm down in a short, sharp motion and his troops burst forward like a tidal wave, roaring and yelling indiscernible words and curses at the sentries and soldiers before them.

Blue let out an impressive roar of her own and started shooting at the large planes overhead and the soldiers towards the back of the crowd. Lance rocked on his feet a couple of times. His orders were to stay back until needed but there was a build up of adrenaline and testosterone in his blood and he could feel his muscles bunching beneath the skin-tight under armour and bodysuit.

“Shiro?” 

_ “Lance, what’s wrong?” _ came the reply.

“I’m going in,” he said, not really listening to any further comments from the others as he leapt into the fray. 

A few shots fired overhead and he whipped his bayard up and over his head to aim into the branches of a nearby tree where a Galra sniper was perched. One shot, one flurry of broken branches and he was already twisting to avoid a sword in the back from a sentry behind him.

_ “Lance, fall back! It’s too dangerous,” _ Keith was saying against his own backdrop of furious yelling and clanging swords.

“Says you,” growled Lance. “I can vouch for a fact that you’re fighting too, Mullet-head.”

Keith fell silent at that, and Lance grinned before sliding into a roundhouse kick that knocked a sentry’s head clean off of its shoulders.

“Nice one, sir!” a home soldier said, before aiming his pistol at an oncoming hover droid. “These nasty buggers aren’t quitting though. You got any plan for this?”

“Pidge!” Lance grunted, taking a nasty punch in the gut. “Got drones here. Any handy service you can hack that’ll-” aim, trigger, headshot “-conveniently shut them down all at once?”

_ “I’ll see what I can do,” _ Pidge promised from their lion.  _ “How many we talking?” _

“Oh a good seventy five or so,” Lance said nonchalantly, ripping a sword from a soldier’s hand and running him through with it. “No big deal.”

Pidge didn’t bother to deign that with a reply, but Lance could feel the eyeroll through the comms. A few seconds later and the drones all stuttered and fell to the forest floor with dull thumps.

_ “Thanks Pidge,” _ Keith said, and Lance hummed his appreciation too.

_ “You guys almost done there? We need to move on to Phase Two.” _

“Give me five minutes,” Lance said, surveying the battleground critically. He’d lost about three hundred out of a thousand men, and there were about three hundred left of the Galra.

_ “Give me three,” _ Keith retorted a smug smile clearly audible through the headset and Lance resisted the impulse to growl.

“On second thought, two’ll be fine,” he smirked, watching as a group of five of his troops tag teamed an unsuspecting sentry. Snapping his bayard into his twin pistols, he started firing on the last remaining soldiers, cowering behind some trees as far from the firefight as possible.

_ “Done!” _

“Done!” Keith and Lance shouted simultaneously, resulting in a groan from everyone else on the comms as an argument then broke out over who’d actually finished first.

“Dude, just because you want to print your achievements out on a CV and form it into a paper mache model of your dick so that you can shove it up some asshole’s asshole, doesn’t mean I want to hear about it,” Lance said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Keith spluttered and turned red. His mouth opened to spit fire all over Lance, but a metal hand over his mouth stopped him.

“Enough,” Shiro said, though his twitching lips betrayed his amusement. “Let’s just get back to HQ. They’re expecting an assault at any moment. If the plan’s worked, the Galra have no idea what just happened down here and will be expecting back up to be readily available. They’ll be like sitting ducks.”

Lance salivated a little, thinking about duck. God, how long had it been since he’d had a proper, red meat meal? Too long. Yes, he wasn’t starving (yet) but a wolf’s gotta do what a wolf’s gotta do. Whoever heard of a vegetarian werewolf? (not counting Veronica because, honestly, if anyone’s the alien, it’s her).

“Lance? Lance,” Allura called, clicking her fingers in front of his face. “Are you alright?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine,” Lance said, dragging his thoughts away from duck and Veronica. “Just...duck.”

“Duck?”

“Yeah, dude, I miss proper food,” he explained, eyes glazing over as he remembered that one time he’d nicked a duck from the local duck pond and been grounded for a month afterwards.

The others shook their heads at his antics and moved on. He did too, but his ears felt strangely itchy and he nervously patted down his hair to ensure that no one would see the abnormally pointy and hairy ends of them.

“We’ll be on the first line of defence,” Shiro was saying. “We leave at first light, the Galra are expected by noon tomorrow. Get some sleep.”

\---

The first time Lance had turned was a big deal. He was seven, the average turning age of an Inherited, and all his elder siblings had been Wolves, so it was highly unlikely that he was going to be a Null. 

He remembered crying out in pain, a mangled mix of a human boy’s cries and a wounded animal’s yelps. Barely developed muscles tore and regrew in different shapes and his bones cracked and moved around inside of him. As his skull shrunk his brain pounded, ears flat against his head. Blood ran down his throat, coating his mouth in metallic red and his fingertips were sore and scabbed as his claws ripped their way out of his hands - paws?

Eventually, finally, it was over and Lance remembered a sense of peace and tranquility he hadn’t experienced before as a hyperactive seven year old. His body still throbbed with pain, but it was more of an after-exercise ache than an ‘I just got ripped to shreds because of my hormone levels and this stupid full moon’ pain.

In place of the skinny boy was an equally skinny wolf though much taller than any regular wolf. Wolves are generally eighty centimetres tall. He stood at a solid hundred and twenty five centimetres, fur fluffy and soft in his youth. 

Nowadays, as a human, he is six foot three. Two inches shorter than Shiro and Hunk, though the likelihood is that he’ll outgrow them soon. That is a whopping hundred and ninety point five centimetres tall, making for a pretty enormous wolf when he turns again. His fur was coarse the last time he turned, rough on the back though still velvet soft on his chest. 

Of course, werewolves don’t turn into an actual wolf when they turn. No, as Wolves, they retain a certain length to their limbs that normal wolves don’t have, to allow ridiculously fast running speeds. They also can communicate using language, albeit crude and without sounds as such. Werewolves also possess rational thinking and don’t go on massacres unless willing. 

Last Lance knew, he was a grey wolf, although admittedly, more cinnamon coloured than grey. His eyes stayed the same light blue as always, with flecks of amber in. Lance kind of loved his Wolf. It was the physical embodiment of all Lance’s deepest emotions; anger, love, loyalty.

Back on earth, in his pack, Lance was his father’s right hand man. His older brothers and sisters had started their own packs or joined other packs and so the torch got passed down to the oldest child still present. Alphas weren’t born, they were chosen.

And so, as Ricardo McClain’s right hand, he was well known in his pack. His loyalty, strength and devotion to the pack was respected by all who knew of their secret which was reflected in his Wolf. Lance wondered it any attributes had changed over his time as a Paladin. He knew for a fact that his trusting nature was definitely a thing of the past, which was a shame but necessary.

It was pretty much a given that his Wolf was still violent and prone to anger though. While humans generally tamper down their anger and let old hurts die, when someone's Wolf comes out, all bets are off. If you so much as accidentally pissed on his property, you should expect a similar offence or warning growl depending on the mood of the day and how much repressed anger is inside the person.

Lance didn't like being angry with people, so he had a lot of pent up rage that he let loose as a wolf. Which made him possibly more infamous than his reputation already allowed. 

Maybe when he got back to earth, his father would let him led a Run. Lance shivered, imagining wind running through his thick fur as he sprinted through the snowy forests up in Montana. God, it had been so long since his last transformation.

He was probably going stir crazy. The other day he caught himself chewing on his last clean pair of boxers. Luckily he noticed before he destroyed his limited clothing options, but it was getting a bit ridiculous.

\---

The battle was going well. Their offence was strong and the few Galra that had broken through were quickly disposed of by their own snipers up in the treetops. In all truth, Lance was completely, irrevocably bored out of his mind. 

Ever since joining Voltron, his blood-lust and aggression had been through the roof; whether it had been competing with Keith or killing Galra alike.

As though by magic, a crackle over the comms alerted them to the fall of their offensive line. Lance, positioned on their left flank waited impatiently for the tell tale stomping of the approaching army. A huge force appeared beyond the treeline and Lance felt a twinge inside of his chest, his rib cage expanding and pressing against his chest plate uncomfortably.

It was like it was choreographed or something. Desperately, he wrapped both hands around the comforting weight of his bayard and took deep breaths to regain control.

“Not now,” he muttered. “ _ Not now. _ ”

The battle passed in a haze to him. It was vaguely reminiscent of the time he’d got accidentally high on LSD with some friends back in high school. The surroundings were swimming around him, Galra soldiers stretching grotesquely before his eyes as he tried to blink the multi-coloured dots from his vision.

Breathing harshly, he swung a sentry arm into the face of another, using the arm to break through the reinforced metal plating on the robot. Something of a growl ripped its way out of his throat and he felt his control slipping. It was really only a matter of time, he had just hoped it would be during one of those week long diplomatic missions Allura insisted on where he could just play it off as a contagious illness instead of in the middle of the most important battle of the month.

His troops began to notice that something was wrong with him when he dropped to his knees in the battlefield.

“Sir?”

“Are you alright?”

“The Blue Paladin is down, I repeat, code blue, we need evac on the left flank-”

Lance began to shake, his shoulders hunching over as his fingers scrabbled with the clasps of his chest plate. The armour might be able to change shape to fit the wearer, but his Wolf had never worn armour before and he wasn’t keen to introduce the concept just yet.

He threw pieces of armour aside as claws ripped the ends of his gloves and his jaw lengthened. Almost too late he tore the helmet off of his head and chucked it into the shrubbery. A blinding pain shot down his back as his spine readjusted to suit his quadrupedal form, arms sprouting a thick coating of fur as they bulked up, skin stretching around new muscles. A tearing sound was the remnants of his under armour falling around his feet as he finally stopped writhing and lay panting on the ground, an enormous wolf where once was a human boy.

_ “Lance?” _

The Wolf let out a grunt and hauled itself to its feet. He surveyed the area with keen blue eyes, paws patting the earth beneath his feet curiously. The animal cast a longing gaze up to the empty night sky above them before turning to stare fiercely at the troops, who seemed frozen in fear.

Belatedly, a pod zoomed into the clearing, bringing with it the other paladins, all of whom leapt out and aimed their various weapons at the enormous creature standing in the midst of the bloodshed.

“What is that?” Pidge asked, voice quavering despite her best efforts. It stood over a foot taller than her and the teeth in its mouth seemed terribly sharp.

“Paladins!” a young soldier sprinted up to him, the monster following his movement with seemingly intelligent eyes. “He just...just collapsed to the floor and then... _ turned! _ Into this!”

The team froze, before turning back to the creature, who seemed to be grinning at them. Thinking about it...the creature was the exact same height as Lance was standing. And those eyes, hidden beneath a heavy brow, were a shade of blue very familiar to the paladins.

Hunk was the first to react, stepping forward gingerly and reaching out a hand to the wolf. It watched Hunk for a moment before pressing the top of its forehead into Hunk’s outstretched palm. 

_ What’s up? _ Those eyes seemed to be saying, a strange sort of smirk (if smirk it could be called) curling the wolf’s lips. 

“Is that... _ Is Lance a werewolf? _ ” Pidge squeaked, watching with a sort of nervous excitement. She leapt forwards and buried a hand in the fur just below the wolf’s shoulder. It fixed her with an amused look and she bit her lip in happiness at the feeling of the fur and muscle beneath her fingers.

Shiro and Keith stood paralysed behind them. The wolf -  _ Lance _ \- winked at Hunk and, too fast to watch, bounded forwards, front limbs outstretched as though to rip through the gormless paladins. They stumbled backwards, panicky shouts echoing in the trees and weapons flailing in the air as the wolf changed direction in midair and started running in circles around them, bowling them both over when it reared onto its hind legs and pushed its paws into their faces.

Pidge and Hunk were crying with laughter when Lance collapsed on top of the two of them. They let out wheezing protests only to get a mouthful of fur. Lance bared his teeth at Keith, who glared at him in return.

_ Guess who’s a badass werewolf, Samurai, _ the wolf was saying, Keith just knew.  _ Guess who can take out a Galra with one hit, Kogane. Guess who’s the cool ninja mythical creature, Keifers. That’s right, I am! I win! _

He growled in his throat, only to get one back at twice the power and volume. Pouting, he crossed his arms over his chest as best he could what with being squashed into the muddy ground by a two hundred pound animal.

Well. He did not see this coming.

\---

Back on the castle, Allura and Coran were rightfully perturbed when four humans and a, frankly, enormous furry creature walked onto the bridge after a very successful mission.

“What is  _ that _ ,” Allura demanded as soon as the wolf made its way onto the bridge. It whined and cowered before her, much to the amusement of everyone watching. 

“That,” Shiro sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Is Lance. He’s a werewolf, apparently.”

The Alteans seemed flabbergasted. Understandable.

“And, uh, what exactly is a  _ werewolf? _ ” Coran asked, one hand nervously stroking his moustache. Keith’s eyes gleamed and he stepped forwards excitedly.

“A werewolf is a supernatural being that has the ability to transform from a human into a wolf and back again,” he explained. “Generally believed to be mythological, until, uh-” here he glanced at his watch “-the nineteenth of April, twenty fifty five.”

“Ah,” Coran said, excitement dawning on his face. “Much like the fabled  _ hrakas _ , then? You remember the tale, Princess, of course, of how the brave Janet faced the colossal beast atop the Juj-”

“Yes, Coran, I was present at my bedtime storytelling as well,” Allura interrupted dryly. She stepped forwards until she stood in front of the wolf who was having an internal battle whether or not to submit to the Princess.

His eyes darted from Allura’s face to the ground and back again before glancing nervously at the paladins to his sides. He made an aborted whining growl in his throat, paw dancing over the ground and jaw twitching under its coat of dark, coarse fur.

Allura watched in fascination, unaware of the turmoil behind those unerringly intelligent eyes in such a bestial face.

Slowly, a childish joy dawned over her face and the wolf’s jaw dropped, conveying a very human expression of complete and utter bemusement.

She buried her hands in Lance’s ruff and he let out an embarrassing noise and laughter from behind him told him that his tail was wagging slightly. Tensing his shoulder muscles, he forcibly stopped his tail from wagging, holding it rigid and bunching his leg muscles underneath him.

“Now, I am very tired,” Allura announced. “I fear I shan’t be able to get to my room without assistance. Lance, you shall escort me to my room.” And with no further words, she swung a leg over the wolf’s broad back, twining long fur around her hands as makeshift reigns.

Lance twisted his head around incredulously, a growl rumbling in his throat, his teeth bared but eyes wide as though he had no idea what was happening. Pidge, Hunk and Keith were crying with laughter and his head whipped around to glare at him next, growl undulating from a whine to a rumble and back again.

“Giddy up,” Allura called imperiously. At that, Lance froze, wolf face dropping to a very recognisable ‘bitch what’ expression. With no further regrets in his mind, he bucked his back legs up and tipped Allura off over his head.

\---

They found that the mind meld headsets could be adjusted to accommodate the new shape of Lance’s head and ears. With that discovery they decided that an ‘intel gathering mission’ needed to be held.

Inside Lance’s mind, a never-ending expanse of blue skies and seas, he presented as a human. 

“I’m actually not surprised your head is this empty,” Keith smirked, making Lance glare at him.

“My head right now, Samurai,” he pointed out. “I could make a hurricane appear right now and spit you out into an underwater volcano.” With his threat made, he closed his eyes and, true to his word, a warm, strong, fast wind picked up, swirling around Keith before dissipating.

Keith scowled and folded his arms.

“So. You’re a werewolf,” Shiro said, sitting down gingerly. It was right to be cautious, he told himself. He was literally standing on water.

“Ten points to Hufflepuff,” Lance said, sitting down beside him carelessly.

“Hufflepuff,” Pidge scoffed. “Shiro is clearly a Gryffindor.”

“What? Shiro is the most hard-working, loyal and friendly guy you could ever meet, he is so a Hufflepuff.”

“He’s brave, chivalrous and will gladly fight anyone who gets on his nerves. Need I bring up Slav?”

Lance made to retort only to be interrupted by a crushing grip on his shoulder. Shiro was beaming to his left, but the expression was clearly fake and made him shudder a little bit in fear. Not that he’d ever admit that.

“I am indeed a werewolf,” he said. “Have been since I was born. I inherited it from my parents who are both wolves too.”

“How long will you stay a wolf in the other world?” Shiro asked.

“Well, as soon as I get back into regular transformations it’ll only be for one night but I’ll be really aggressive. Of course, I can also change at will, but I can’t change back until twenty eight hours have passed.”

“If you bite someone will they change into a werewolf?” Keith asked eagerly.

“Yes.”

“Can you-”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask!”

“Yeah I do,” Lance smirked. “You were going to ask me to bite you. I don’t know how werewolf blood conditions will work on aliens. It could kill you.”

Keith pouted but didn’t protest any further. He didn’t want to die from blood poisoning from Lance’s saliva. That’d be a crappy way to go.

“Anyway, this time around it’ll probably be three or four nights,” he continued. “I haven’t turned in seven months.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Pidge said, leaning forwards to stare at Lance, who scratched the back of his neck.

“Well...I always turned with my family,” he said. “At first it felt wrong to and they always said that the Pack was a secret and, well, hunting still exists for us. If I turned at the Garrison, it was okay because I could just sneak out and go be a wolf in the desert for a bit-”

“Wait!” Keith yelled, throwing his arms in the air. “That howling! That was you?”

“Guilty.”

“You kept me up so many times, you absolute-” Keith cut himself off with an angry huff and tucked his hands back into his armpits.

“So yeah,” Lance said, turning away from Keith’s dramatics. “That’s mainly why. Plus we were a bit preoccupied, and without the moon to actually force my transformations, I figured I could just...wait it out. After all, a werewolf’s never been to space before, so I thought that leaving the moon behind meant leaving the Wolf behind. Guess not, huh?”

“Does it hurt?” 

“What, the turn? Yeah. Like a bitch.”

Hunk swallowed at the blunt answer. They stared at Lance for a while longer, before an evil grin spread across his face.

“Wanna see how empty my head really is, Keith?” he taunted, turning to the boy sitting beside him.

“What do you mean?”

With a cackle, Lance pushed Keith’s head below the surface of the water, ignoring the bubbling curses below the sea. It wasn’t like he could drown anyway. It was literally happening inside his head.

\---

Four days later and the paladins got to witness the painful transformation from wolf to human. Lance had tried once to decide which way was worse, but muscles being forced into a skin too small seemed to be equal to the feeling of having your spine stretched back into a humanoid shape.

He lay, covered in sweat and panting heavily, flat on his back in the training room, a shocked silence ringing in his ears as the paladins tried to process what they’d just seen.

Lance groaned and covered his eyes as they adjusted to the bright lights in the ceiling. Human eyes were so much more sensitive than wolf eyes.

“Blanket,” he coughed, voice hoarse from misuse. A blanket was thrown into his line of vision and he pulled it over his legs to protect what was left of his dignity. He squinted up at his team who were standing against one wall to stay out of the way of his seizing body during the turn.

“You alright bud?” Hunk asked, stepping forwards when he realised it was safe to do so. Lance nodded, swallowing around a tongue that seemed too fat in his too small mouth.

“Water?”

Shiro handed over a water pouch silently that Lance drained in two seconds flat, gasping for breath as it washed the taste of dog fur from his mouth. He grimaced and smacked his lips together.

“God I always hate that part,” he grumbled. “It’s not like I’m eating my own fur, so why does it always taste of dog fur?” 

Pidge grinned and helped him to his shakey feet, shaking her head at him.

“Hate to break it to you Lance, but I caught you chewing your own fur once or twice over the past few days.”

Lance spluttered, face turning red.

“No you didn’t! Only cubs do that, and I am not a cub!”

Pidge smirked. 

“I have video recording.”

“No you don’t!”

\---

“Hey, Lance?”

“Yeah buddy?” Lance replied, tongue poking out from between his teeth as he gingerly iced the newest batch of goo cakes Hunk had lovingly created.

“Why did you act so weird around Allura?”

Lance’s hand squeezed reflexively around the piping tube, causing a mountain of blue goo icing to ruin the cupcake he had been trying to turn into his lion.

“What? Acting weird? Me? I’ll have you know, I am the  _ epitome _ of smooth and I don’t act weird. I am super smooth, so smooth that overexposure to me can cause broken bones because you will  _ slip and fall _ on my smoothness. You get me?”

“Sure. That’s why you looked like you were going to piss yourself when she first saw you.”

“I did  _ not! _ ”

“You did, Lance,” Shiro said, walking into the room followed by Keith who was already laughing at him. Lance wrinkled his nose at them and stuck his tongue out.

“It’s just back on earth I’m gonna end up as Pack Alpha,” he started, to some snorts of laughter, which he glared at. “It’s true! McClain family law states that offspring becomes a Pack Alpha, not that there’s anything wrong with other positions, it’s just...tradition, I guess? So along comes Allura and she’s... _ she’s threatening my authority, okay? _ ” he spit out, fists clenched at his sides. “I know it’s stupid and I know she’s the leader, but, now don’t be mad, but I kind of made you my impromptu pack? And then we meet this alien princess who leads us and it ruffles my fur the wrong way.”

There was a silence that was immediately broken by Pidge who dissolved into laughter.

“Oh wow,” she choked. “You thought that your alpha-ness was being threatened by Allura when she stared you down but your human side wanted to submit and your wolf side didn’t so you just had a tiny mental breakdown while she tried to ride you-”

At that Lance went bright red and slapped a hand over Pidge’s mouth.

“ _ Who said anything about riding? _ ” he hissed, shocked that Pidge even knew what that was. She gave him a disgusted look and removed his hand from her face.

“I was talking about when she got on your back,” she deadpanned. 

Lance immediately remembered the Wolf feeling completely and utterly bewildered by that turn of events and so insulted by the ‘giddy up’ thing that his control had won out momentarily. Of course, by the time Rational Lance ™ got his head back under control, Allura was already in a heap on the ground.

“Oh. Right. I totally knew that,” he bluffed, busying himself with the cakes and ignoring the quiet snickers from everyone else. They’d never understand his pain.

\---

It became commonplace for the Wolf to be found on the large couch in the common room, the only comfortable place that could comfortably hold him. Pidge knew this especially well since she’d got into the habit of tucking herself into the warm nest that he provided.

She’d grab her laptop and sit herself cross-legged on the couch, absentmindedly doing some work, writing some codes, while she waited for the tell tale sounds of claws against linoleum. The Wolf would pad around the corner of the room, half-dead to the world already after his extensive training session with Keith and Shiro, and would curl himself up around her, cold nose tucked under his paws. 

Pidge had been freaked out the first time the Wolf did this to her. After a few minutes or so he’d started nosing her side to get her to relax and she remembered; this was just Lance. Lance, who would drape himself across her back, who would pull her into his lap whenever she needed a backrest, who would lift her onto his surprisingly strong shoulders and parade her around the castle while she shouted directions at him.

She grinned and leaned back against the solid mass of fur behind her back, relishing in the comfy warmth that surrounded her.

She could get used to this.

\---

Keith and Shiro were regretting making Lance do extra training with them. They hadn’t factored in the whole super strength thing and as they were thrown across the room for what felt like the thirteenth time of the session, they couldn’t seem to gather the motivation to get back up.

The Wolf’s face appeared in their line of vision, a very smug grin playing across its face, not that it should be able to grin.

_ Come on, _ it was saying.  _ You can do better than that. _

Keith merely groaned and closed his eyes. Shiro narrowed his eyes at the Wolf, who tilted his head innocently at him.

_ I warned you _ , the eyes said.  _ I offered to go easy on you but you just laughed.  _ Well he wasn’t laughing now, was he. 

“Do a simulation,” Shiro said, getting to his feet. “We’ll watch your technique this time, and fight again afterwards.” The Wolf squinted at him suspiciously before nodding his head slowly and turning to face the room once again.

“Start close combat sim, level four.”

There was a nod of thanks from the Wolf before ten armoured droids dropped into the training deck and the Wolf was leaping forward, a snarl curling his lip and revealing razor sharp teeth. In a flurry of teeth and claws and fur, the beast ripped apart the combatants, barely noticing the slashes of swords and blaster fire across his back.

The droids fell through the floor one by one and at the end of it, the Wolf turned back to face them, ears perked up on his head and an expectant look on his face.

Keith groaned again.

\---

“So do you regret us finding out?”

“Nah.”

“Why not?”

“I hope you like cheese.”

“Keith’s lactose intolerant, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“You guys are my pack now. I may not be Pack Alpha  _ yet _ but you’re like my family up here and I don’t regret anything.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> So, this work is completely unrelated to the other one in this series, which will probably be updated whenever I have another idea for a non-human fic. You might've guessed that I'm very biased towards Lance (nervous laughter) but I can't help it! I really wanna do a Pidge one soon though, so that might go up at some point, just don't hold your breath.
> 
> For those interested, getting italics in the summary is actually really easy. You just put a < i > in front of your paragraph and a < / i > at the end, with no spaces. Like, no spaces.
> 
> Thanks for reading! ~Marshy


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